


If There Be Thorns

by Writcraft



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 07:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco finally decides to tell Hermione how he feels the night before Valentine’s Day, but apparently someone else has the same idea.  Title taken from a book in the Flowers in the Attic series by Virginia Andrews. Written for the Dramionelove Valentine's fest on Livejournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If There Be Thorns

Draco picked up the long-stemmed flower and slid it through his hands as one of the thorns caught against his skin. He closed his eyes and clenched his hand into a fist, his mouth set as he let the sharp thorns pinch at his skin, breaking it in several places. The pain of the thorns digging into his hand only made him clench his fingers harder. 

The light shafts of sunlight which had been fighting through the fog of the afternoon turned red and Draco could feel a gentle heat on his face. When he opened his eyes again, the sun had dipped out of sight and the sky had turned to inky black.

He unfurled his hand and dropped the rose to the floor, looking at the bloody marks the thorns had left in his skin. It took him a moment to realise he wasn’t exactly in the privacy of his own office where he could brood in peace.

Granger.

_Filthy little Mudblood._

It was harder to forget those words these days, when Granger - _Hermione_ \- sat close to him and her hair brushed his arm as she leaned in to gesture to something in one of their books, her voice animated. It was harder to forget the way she had screamed in the Manor when his Aunt and Fenrir had decided to have their fun. 

Draco’s mind wandered as he placed the rose back in the box on the table and allowed his thoughts to fill with the sounds of battle and the memories of the past. He remembered laughter which sounded strange and A long time after the war had finished, Draco had found them buried deep in the shadows of Hogwarts, oblivious to anyone who might be watching. He had stepped back into the darkness and looked on as Hermione and Weasley kissed. He listened to the sounds of heavy breathing and soft sighs as he drank in the picture of them wrapped around one another in a clinch, the rest of the world forgotten.

He remembered feeling nauseous, but not for the reasons he expected. Draco hated Granger because he knew he could never be _good_ enough for her. Afterwards she was always _there_ , in the Hall or the library, sitting with Potter and laughing at something, never casting her eyes in Draco’s direction. He hated her for that. With every damn fiber in his body he hated her for never looking at him twice.

“Draco?” Her voice was light and carefree and carried with it the hint of a question, startling him from his thoughts. “What on earth are you doing here? It’s past midnight.”

“I suppose I could ask you the same question.” Draco turned and nodded to the box on her desk, hoping she wouldn’t notice the one rose he had extracted, now buried beneath the others. “You have a secret admirer.”

“I do?” Hermione flushed and looked at the roses, her eyes flitting to Draco and then back to the flowers.

“It’s not me.”

“I didn’t suggest it was.” Granger’s voice sounded clipped as she snapped back her response and reached for the card which Draco had missed when he had sat at Hermione’s desk, staring into space and lost in thought. She opened the card and a flicker of emotion crossed her face before she placed the card back in the envelope and closed the box.

“You seem unhappy.” Draco arched an eyebrow and watched Granger frown until she turned her back to him and he couldn’t see her face any longer.

“Not unhappy. It’s a lovely thought.”

Draco frowned and reached for the card, not really caring if it was a rude thing to do. Before Granger could protest he opened it and read the name inside, feeling his lips pull into a sneer.

“How delightfully incestuous.”

“You don’t know anything about the situation!” Granger held her hand out for the card, her voice firm. “Not to mention it is none of your business.”

“One Weasley not enough for you, Granger? Do you have a _thing_ for red hair, freckles and poverty? Or perhaps the idea that they might enjoy sharing you appeals.”

“Don’t you dare!” Hermione’s face had flushed pink again, this time with anger. She tore the card from Draco’s hand and he noticed the way her fingers trembled a little before she turned away from him again. “Why are you here? Get out.”

“I had every intention of doing so.” Draco felt his heart hammer in his chest and moved to the door, feeling sick and unsteady and wanting to be free of this too-small room and the cloying scent of flowers.

“I hate you.” 

“I don’t like you much either.” The lie rolled easily off Draco’s tongue as he kept his face set and cold, refusing to turn and let her of all people see his emotions.

“Why are you here?” Hermione’s voice was quiet and trembled a little, and Draco gripped the handle of the door, keeping his back to her as he closed his eyes.

_Because it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow and I wanted to leave you a gift but when I arrived someone had beaten me to it._

“I wanted to look at the Dolohov file.”

“I don’t believe you,” Granger replied.

“Do you really want to imagine the alternative?” Draco turned now and moved from the door to Hermione as she stood looking lost and confused, not quite meeting his eyes. She tilted her chin defiantly as the clock ticked in the quiet room and met his gaze with a cool stare.

“Yes. I believe I do.” Draco stood closer until he could feel her soft breath on his face. He raised his hand to Hermione’s cheek, trailing his fingers along it and feeling the warmth beneath his touch before he dropped his hand uselessly to his side. “Your hand…” 

“It’s nothing.” Draco clenched his fingers into a ball again and looked away, unable to meet her clear gaze.

“I don’t believe you,” Granger repeated. 

Draco realized they were standing close enough to kiss, their lips almost touching as his body felt hot and alive. He slipped his hand to her hip and settled it there, and she didn’t flinch or pull away. She stood still and continued to watch him, her open gaze making him feel ashamed of everything he used to be.

“You’re too good for me.” Draco’s voice caught and he cleared his throat.

“Undoubtedly.” Hermione’s voice was light and clear again.

“I’m rich and handsome.” Draco huffed a little at her easy acceptance of his statement. “You could do a lot worse.”

“You’re arrogant and impossible.” Hermione shrugged and smiled. “So could you.”

“I’m well aware.” Draco grimaced and then gestured to the box on the desk. “You have someone else?”

“No,” Hermione shook her head. “I clearly need to have a conversation with someone, but that’s a private matter.”

“I see.” Draco brushed his lips lightly against Hermione’s cheek and pulled her flush against him, breathing in her clean, floral scent. “What next, Granger?”

“Next maybe _you_ could buy me flowers?” Hermione laughed and brushed her lips against Draco’s. He held her tightly as the touch lingered. “Seeing as you’re so filthy rich.”

“Perhaps I should.” Draco moved them back and reached for his wand, flicking closed the door of the office as he pressed Hermione into the desk. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Hermione agreed.

_~Fin~_


End file.
